


Don't End with Blood

by DNAchemLia



Series: Heap of Stones [3]
Category: NCIS
Genre: AU, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-20
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 11:36:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4833896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DNAchemLia/pseuds/DNAchemLia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A near tragedy reminds Tony of how much his team means to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Nepal Relief fic for hazelmom. I know she likes Tim whump and Tony/Tim friendship, so I aimed to please ;)  
> Set in the same 'verse as More Than a Heap of Stones. No romance, I promise.  
> Characters: Pre season 11 team.  
> Warnings: Injuries, angst, and a little supernatural weirdness.  
> Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of their respective copyright holders. No infringement intended. The original characters and places mentioned are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to those living, dead, or undead is completely coincidental.

Chapter 1

Tony secured his crime scene kit in the back of the MCRT truck and shut the door before turning to his partner.

"Sure you don't want some company?"

Since their current case had led them to a rural area in southern Virginia, not far from Tim's home, he had met them there in the wee hours of the morning and would be following them back to the Yard in his own car.

Tim gave him a mischievous grin. "You just don't want to ride back with Ziva after that prank you pulled on her. You're afraid of what she's going to do for payback."

Tony rubbed the back of his head, unable to hide his own grin at the memory of Ziva's decidedly girly shriek when she opened her own kit. "Yeah, but it was worth it." He quickly sobered when he caught her glare from across the small lot where they were parked. "I hope."

Tim patted him on the shoulder. "You'll survive, Tony. Maimed, maybe, but you'll live."

"That's debatable," Gibbs growled as he approached the truck, Ziva on his heels. "DiNozzo, get in. McGee, we'll see you back at the Yard." A slight smirk crossed Gibbs' face. "Try to keep up."

"Yes, Boss."

Tony opened the passenger door and bowed to Ziva, sweeping his hand towards the seat. "After you, m'lady." She smacked him, hard, in the chest and climbed into the cab of the truck, glaring at him as he climbed in after her and closed the door.

After they were all buckled in Gibbs started the engine and guided the truck towards the highway, followed by Tim in his Prius and Ducky and Palmer in the M.E.'s van. Soon they were back out on the highway and after only a few miles Tony lost sight of the van, but Tim was still following a few car lengths behind.

He chanced a glance at Ziva and winced when he saw she was still glaring at him.

"Aw, come on. You can't still be mad. It was just a plastic toy. Not like it was a  _real_ snake."

"I do not care. They may not bother you, but where I come from snakes are not a joke. Do you have any idea how many poisonous snakes there are in-"

"Venomous. Not poisonous," Gibbs corrected, surprising both of them.

"What is the difference?"

"If you bite it and you die, it's poisonous. If it bites you and you die, it's venomous."

"Oh. That is…"

"Kind of cool that you know that, Boss."

"Learned it from McGee."

Tony chuckled. "Now that doesn't surprise me."

"Something else McGee knows."

"What's that?"

"When to shut up."

Tony ducked his head in anticipation of a slap, but it never came. He glanced at his boss and saw the smirk cross Gibbs' face before both returned their attention to the road.

Traffic was not quite as heavy as he would have expected, heading back into the city mid-morning, but there were still way too many cars on the road. Gibbs was driving in the far left lane and the two lanes to the right were almost wall to wall, yet still moving along at a good clip. Tony looked in the side view mirror and noticed a SUV about two lengths behind the MCRT truck swerve slightly before the driver quickly corrected its course. He kept his attention on the dark green GMC Terrain and as he watched it did it again, coming a bit too close for comfort to the semi on its right.

_Texting or drunk?_ Tony wondered as he watched the car swerve yet again. He started to retrieve his cell phone to give the state highway patrol a heads up, looking at the mirror carefully so he could attempt a backwards reading of the license plate. Just as he had managed to decypher the number the car swerved sharply to the right, striking the semi and ricocheting back across the highway into the far lane. Tony thought for a fraction of a second that it was going to hit their truck but the force of the impact with the semi had sent it spinning and with a horrendous crash of metal against metal it struck the car traveling directly behind them.

" _Boss, stop!"_

The command was unnecessary as Gibbs had already swerved onto the shoulder and had hit the brakes, barely missing a set of construction barrels left behind from some recently completed project. Almost before the truck came to a halt in the grassy median Tony jumped out and started to run back towards the crash site. Cars were stopped or coming to a stop around him as he narrowly avoided being hit at least twice before he reached the place where both cars had gone off the road. The first car was flipped over, its wheels shredded and undercarriage smoking. Beyond the SUV, in the middle of the median strip, rested the badly damaged remains of a silver Toyota Prius.

" _McGee!"_

He dashed towards the car, the rational part of his mind telling him that there was no way Tim could have survived the crash while another part of him screamed in denial that his best friend couldn't be dead. When he reached the bowed-in passenger side of the car he looked through the shattered window, expecting to find his partner's mangled corpse, and froze, almost unable to believe what he was seeing. By some miracle, the driver's side seat had collapsed and its occupant was lying nearly flat, the caved in roof just inches above his chest and head.

"Oh God, Tim..."

What little Tony could see of his partner's face was covered with blood and dark, slowly spreading stains marred the pale fabric of his dress shirt. His legs were hidden beneath the crushed dashboard and his right arm lay limp and still across the passenger's seat. Tony leaned in through the window, oblivious to cacophony around him, and carefully lifted Tim's wrist to check for a pulse. After a brief moment of terror at finding nothing he was finally able to detect a faint, unsteady beat.

" _Ambulance! Now!"_ he screamed over his shoulder before returning his undivided attention to the man trapped in the car. He wrapped his hand around Tim's and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"Tim, can you hear me?" Tony waited a few moments and felt a flood of relief when he felt a weak squeeze in return. "That's good, Tim. Stay with me. You're gonna be OK. We'll get you out of here in no time. Just hang on." He received another squeeze of what he hoped was acknowledgement and continued to talk, trying his best to keep Tim focused on staying at least semi-conscious and his own fears at bay. Eventually he became aware of the commotion surrounding the car as Gibbs' voice finally penetrated.

"Med-Evac is on its way."

"How much longer?"

"It'll be here by the time they get him out."

Tony cringed at the reminder of Tim's precarious position, made worse by the car itself. He remembered reading about a danger to first responders with the hybrid cars, and hoped Tim's need to be environmentally conscious wouldn't cost him his life. Tony pushed that fear down as well as he continued to talk to Tim, doing his best to keep both of their minds off of the current situation. After every few sentences Tony would ask Tim for a response,and his heart climbed into his throat as those responses grew continually slower and weaker.

The roar of large engines approaching startled Tony and he looked out through the broken windshield to see a fire engine and an ambulance pull up a few yards away from Tim's car. Soon two EMTs were pushing Tony out of the way so they could work on stabilizing their patient. Tony stayed as close as he could watching them work as another group of people prepared to extract Tim from the mangled vehicle.

After what seemed like hours, they had managed to remove the roof and had pulled the damaged front end away from the passenger area, freeing Tim's legs from where they had been pinned. Soon the EMTs had him out of the seat and onto a backboard, which they quickly carried to a waiting gurney. Tony ran along beside them, ignoring the shouts of the firemen and ambulance crew, until they arrived at the open space where the Med-Evac chopper had landed.

"I'm going with him!" Tony yelled at the crew but the pilot shook his head.

"Sorry! No can do! No room!"

"Where-?"

"GW. Gotta go!" The doors of the chopper closed and it took off, leaving Tony crouching by the ground and watching as it banked and headed for D.C. When it was nearly out of sight Tony slowly stood and watched it disappear over the horizon.

"Tony?"

He turned and saw Ziva, her eyes wide with fear and worry. Without a word he stepped up to her and embraced her, burying his face into her shoulder. He felt her arms wrap around him as she murmured in his ear.

"He will be OK. He is a fighter, Tony. Remember that."

Tony nodded, unable to speak as he struggled to hold in his tears. He couldn't lose his friend.

He just couldn't.

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

Tony watched silently as a the remains of Tim's car were loaded onto a flatbed, wondering when he'd be able to check on his partner. More than two hours had passed since Tim had been taken from the scene and Tony was desperate for news. He had tried to call the hospital several times but they had been unwilling to give him any information over the phone, despite his assurances that he was not a journalist seeking to scoop his competitors on the big story of the day.

Gibbs had argued with the state highway patrol officers for the team to be allowed to leave after they had been rebuffed in their offer to document and collect evidence for what had happened to their fourth member, but the extent of the pileup that had occurred as the result of the accident kept the state investigators too busy with the scores of witnesses and injured drivers to finish taking their statements and release them. For the first time in recent memory the remaining MCRT members were being treated as witnesses rather than investigators, a fact that did not ease Tony's anxiety or frustration in the least.

His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and Tony yanked it out to check the number, groaning softly when he saw who it was.

"Hey Abby," he answered, barely managing to keep his voice steady.

" _Where are you guys? Ducky and Jimmy got back over an hour ago. I heard there was a big accident and-"_

"Still waiting for it to be cleared."

" _Wow. Gibbs must be_   _ **pissed.**_ "

"Understatement of the century, Abbs." It took him a moment to parse what she had said. "Wait. Ducky and Palmer are back? How?"

" _Jimmy said they pulled off to get gas and apparently just missed it. Someone told them about the pile-up and they took another route back."_

"Oh. Lucky them."

" _Is Tim with you? I tried calling him and I kept getting a message that his phone is out of service, which is weird, because your phone is working and…"_

Tony was wondering how in the hell he was going to answer that question when he felt a presence behind him and turned to see Gibbs, eyebrows raised in query. Tony just handed the phone to him and he put it up to his ear to listen.

"Abbs? Yeah, it's me. Hold on a minute." He covered the speaker with his hand and tilted his head towards a group of uniformed men standing a few yards away. "SHP wants to talk to you. Go, I'll handle this."

"Finally," Tony muttered under his breath. "Thanks, Boss."  _I'm not envying you that conversation._  He started walking towards the men and stopped when something caught his eye: a dark blue cap, flattened by one or more of the vehicles. He nudged it over with his foot and his heart stuttered in his chest when he saw a familiar set of white letters and recognized it as Tim's swoop cap, no doubt removed when he had climbed into his car and flung from the car as it rolled into the median. His rational mind yelled at him not to pick up evidence which he ignored as he slowly plucked the cap from the ground and turned it over in his hands.

"Agent DiNozzo?"

He looked up to see one of the state troopers watching him with a sympathetic expression.

"Yeah. Sorry, I…"

The trooper, whose name tag identified him as  _Hendricks_  just nodded. "I understand you saw the car that caused the accident beforehand. What can you tell me?"

"It was...the driver didn't seem to have control of the car. It swerved a couple of times and I was getting ready to call it in when it hit a tractor-trailer traveling next to it. That caused it to spin out and it crossed into the left lane directly behind us. I heard the impact." He closed his eyes for a brief moment, pushing down that horrible memory. "I yelled at my Boss to stop and I ran back to the scene."

Hendricks nodded again. "That correlates to what we've been able to determine so far. You didn't hear or see anything else? No signs of road rage? Gunfire?"

"No. I didn't see any outside cause for the driver to lose control. Did  _you_  find a cause for that?"

"Not yet."

"Let me know when you do."

"My boss will let your boss know."

"Good."

Hendricks' expression softened. "Have you heard anything on Agent McGee?"

"No. I've called, but…"

"They won't talk to you without proper authorization. Of course." His tone indicated what he thought of that particular policy. He turned to his supervisor, eyebrows raised, and after a moment received a brief nod in return. "I need to head over there anyway. Want a lift?"

"Thanks. I just need to check-"

"Go, Tony," Gibbs replied as he moved into Tony's line of sight. "Keep us 'll be there as soon as we can."

"Got it. Is Abby OK?"

"Ducky's with her for now."

"Right. I let you know…" Gibbs squeezed his shoulder in silent support and headed off towards the MCRT truck where Ziva was waiting. Tony followed Hendricks to his cruiser and climbed in the front seat, hoping there would be news when he finally arrived at GW, and once again ignoring the rational (and dishearteningly pessimistic) part of his mind that was telling him Tim probably hadn't survived the journey to the trauma center.

Hendricks had clued in to Tony's state of mind rather quickly and hadn't tried to make conversation during the trip. When they arrived at the center, he dropped Tony off at the door and the agent rushed in, searching for someone who could give him an update. He finally located the information desk and after flashing his badge and demanding answers, a rather harried nurse explained that Tim has finally been stabilized and taken to surgery barely ninety minutes prior to Tony's arrival. She then informed him that there was a quiet area where he could wait to hear from one of the doctors working on Tim and pointed him to an alcove with several uncomfortable-looking plastic chairs. Tony flopped into one of them and, frowning at the NO CELL PHONES IN USE signs and the muted TV set to ZNN, he settled in to wait.

The hours slowly passed, leaving Tony to replay images from those moments surrounding the crash over and over again in his mind. He still couldn't believe that Tim had actually survived, and while he was not a praying man he pleaded with whatever higher power might be listening that Tim would make it through this latest tragedy and be able to return to full health, and soon. He made frequent trips to the information desk to ask for updates but each time he was rebuffed by an increasingly distracted and annoyed nurse. Finally he returned to his seat, leaned back and closed his eyes, hoping that trying to catch 40 winks would make the time pass more quickly.

Over an hour later Tony jerked awake and checked his watch, alarmed to find that it was almost the end of the work day and he still hadn't heard from Tim's doctors. He was ready to storm the OR when he saw a familiar group of figures pass his alcove.

"Boss!" Gibbs turned and when he caught sight of the agent he quickly moved towards the waiting area, followed by Ziva, Ducky, and a very quiet and teary-eyed Abby.

"What have you heard?" Gibbs demanded.

"Nothing. I was just getting ready to go ask again, and-"

"I will go," Ducky offered and marched off towards the information desk.

"Nothing at all?" Ziva asked, and Tony felt a surge or irritation.

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Hey!" Gibbs' voice was not loud but his tone made it seem like a shout. Tony flinched and ducked his head.

"Sorry, Boss. I'm sorry, Ziva, I…"

"You have had a bad day. We all have."

"Not as bad as McGee," he muttered and Ziva nodded in silent agreement.

"Boss, do we know-" Gibbs held up a hand and reached in his pocket to retrieve his vibrating cell phone.

"Leon." He glanced around, his gaze pausing on the TV. "Yeah, why? OK." He walked found the TV remote and turned on the sound. The TV wasn't loud, but the group could still hear the reporter talking, announcing a press conference by the SHP on the accident that morning. Soon a group of men in uniform, along with two younger men and a middle-aged woman in business suits appeared on the screen, all standing at attention behind podium, their expressions grave. One of the men, who was introduced as the deputy superintendent of the patrol stepped up to the podium and started to speak as the team settled into chairs to watch.

Tony listened, his heart sinking. Twenty-five people had been injured in the accident which involved fifteen passenger vehicles and the semi that had been struck by the green Terrain. Five were still in the hospital, and the driver of the car that had caused the accident had been pronounced dead at the scene. The spokesman explained that it was one of the worst pile-ups in Virginia's history, but the scene had been cleared efficiently and traffic patterns had returned to normal. The victims names were not being released until their families could be contacted.

As he finished speaking, the members of the press began to clamor for attention. He acknowledged the reporter from ZNN, who nodded to her cameraman and stepped forward.

" _I understand that there were federal agents at the scene. What were they investigating?"_

" _The agents in question happened to be driving through when the accident happened. They are not involved in the investigation."_

" _What about the witness claim that one of the agents ignored the driver who caused the accident to help another victim. A little passing of judgement at the scene, maybe?"_

Cold bands of dread wrapped Tony's heart. Did he unconsciously dole out revenge by neglecting to help a critically injured civilian? When he glanced back up at the screen the woman had stepped forward, and text appeared on the screen identifying her as  _Dr. Margaret Cushman, Medical Examiner._

" _Based on my preliminary examination, the driver who_ _ **allegedly**_   _caused the accident suffered a severe intracerebral hemorrhagic stroke, for which there is a high probability that it was almost instantly fatal. The deceased was very likely dead before their vehicle struck the other car that was forced off the road. There was nothing_ _ **anyone**_ _at the scene could have done to change that outcome. It was an accident, nothing more."_

" _What about the driver of the second car. Any word on their condition?"_

" _We are not releasing any information until we have contacted the family."_

"Because you don't know anything yet, either," Tony observed before he raised his head and looked out into the hallway. "What's taking so long?" he asked plaintively when the M.E. failed to reappear.

"Easy, Tony. Duck will be back as soon as he knows something." The fact that Gibbs was trying to comfort him did not ease Tony's anxiety in the least. He stood and walked out into the main hallway, unable to sit and watch as footage from the scene played over and over on the TV. After several minutes of pacing, he finally saw Ducky approaching, his expression somber.

"Did you find out anything? How is he? Is he going to be OK?"

Ducky held up a hand and Tony immediately shut up. "I was able to speak to the O.R. staff, and they informed me that they are nearly finished and one of Timothy's surgeons will come to speak with us as soon as possible. We will just have to wait."

"I've  _been_ waiting. I need to know…"

"As do well all." Ducky patted his shoulder. "It won't be much longer, Anthony. I promise."

Tony returned to his seat and ignored the TV, which Gibbs had already muted again. The minutes passed with agonizing slowness and it was nearly an hour before a weary-looking woman in scrubs entered the waiting room.

"You're all here for Timothy McGee?" She checked the paperwork on the clipboard in her hand. "I have quite a list of people to whom I'm authorized to speak. I take it you are all on this list?" Without hesitation they all nodded. "Very well. If you'll follow me, I'd like to speak to you in private in one of our conference rooms." They nodded again and she turned and started walking back down the hall, silently followed by the group. Tony hoped they would be given good news, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that nothing was ever that simple.

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

The team filed into the room after the doctor and seated themselves at the plain and slightly worn table that dominated the space. The doctor was concerned with reading through her notes, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. Finally Tony couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"Is McGee still alive?" he blurted out, startling the doctor enough that she looked up at him and blushed slightly.

"What? Oh! Of course, I'm sorry, I just...needed to organize my thoughts. Yes, Agent McGee is in Recovery. We should be moving him into the ICU shortly." She quickly scanned through the information on her tablet one last time before addressing the group. "We had four major areas of concern when Agent McGee arrived in the E.R. The first was the internal bleeding in his abdominal area and resultant blood loss. We were able to repair those injuries without major disruption of any organ systems, and we've given him three transfusions to correct the losses.

"The second area of concern was a partial lung collapse due to a fragment of broken rib penetrating the lower lobe of his left lung. That, too has also been successfully repaired and the repairs are holding, although we have him on a ventilator to ease the work his lung is required to do and to give it time to heal."

Tony had seen McGee as they extracted him from the car and knew there were more serious issues the doctor hadn't mentioned yet. "What about-?"

She cleared her throat. "The third issue was the damage to his legs. There were multiple fractures of the tibia and fibula in both legs, the left patella, and both ankles and the left knee were dislocated. The breaks required external stabilization and traction, and unfortunately those injuries will probably take the longest to heal. It will be a while before he is back on his feet." She paused to tap the screen. "In addition to those major breaks, Agent McGee has a fractured left ulna-a simple break that only required a cast-and multiple abrasions, contusions, and lacerations."

She glanced up at the group to see if that had any interruptions to make before continuing.

"Last, but not least was the head injury. He sustained a severe concussion, with minor bleeding which increased his intracranial pressure to concerning levels. We inserted a shunt to relieve that pressure, which has started to decrease, slowly. However, he is not as responsive as we would hope to see at this stage."

"Define 'not as responsive'," Tony demanded and the doctor's lips thinned in displeasure at his tone.

"Due to the swelling around his eyes and the fact that he has been intubated, we can't really measure his eye and verbal responses, but we have seen only limited motor responses to pain. Once he has stabilized and can breathe on his own we should have a better measure of his status with regards to consciousness."

"So you're not sure if he's brain damaged, is that what you're saying?"

"Anthony!"

Abby let out a sob and curled against Gibbs, who tried to comfort her while he and Ducky both glared at Tony. Ziva closed her eyes and started to whisper softly to herself.

"What I am saying is that we need to wait and see. The scans we have taken do not show any obvious areas of damage, but injuries like these...sometimes the damage takes time to fully develop, if it is there at all. We'll be monitoring Agent McGee in Intensive Care for at least 48 hours, longer if necessary. We are being cautious, but based on what  _I_ have seen, I believe he will regain consciousness and eventually most if not all of his normal functions. Overall, he was very fortunate."

"You call all of... _that_  'fortunate'?"

She bristled. "He's alive, and in all likelihood he will heal. That is more than I can say for hundreds of accident victims that come through here every year."

"Thank you, Dr. Heilerin. We deeply appreciate your skill in helping Timothy," Ducky intervened before Tony could antagonize her further. "Will we be able to visit him?"

"After we get him settled in the ICU, you may stay with him for a few minutes, but not all of you at once. No more than two at a time, and if something happens, we'll need room to work."

"Understood. We will wait until he is settled, then."

"I'll let you know, Dr. Mallard."

Heilerin excused herself and exited the room as Tony left his chair and started to pace. Gibbs nodded to Ducky who took over trying to comfort Abby and Gibbs caught Tony's eye before jerking his head slightly towards the door in a familiar gesture. Tony followed him out of the room and down the corridor to a semi-private alcove. Once they were alone Gibbs turned to him.

"Pull yourself together, DiNozzo."

"Boss, I-"

"McGee will be OK. He  _will._  But he's going to need you to keep your head on straight. You're mad, I get that, but that's not going to help him. You know he can tell when you're stressed out. He doesn't need that worry on top of everything else. Alright?"

"Yes, Boss."

Gibbs reached up and gave him a gentler-than-normal slap. "And stop pissing off the doctor who saved his life."

Tony managed a weak smile. "Got it."

They returned to the room and Tony sat down to wait while Gibbs answered a call from Vance and gave him an update. Abby had (mostly) calmed down and she was leaning against Ducky who had one arm wrapped across her shoulder as he spoke to her in a soft voice that didn't carry enough for Tony to hear what he was saying. Ziva was still sitting, her head bowed and her hand near her throat, clutching the pendant she always wore. After a few moments she raised her head and studied him with a worried expression on her face.

"Are you alright, Tony?"

He just shook his head, unable to voice his frustrations again without losing control of the emotions boiling just beneath the surface. She gently placed her hand on his arm and he covered her hand with his own, silently comforting each other. They didn't move until the door opened again and a nurse stuck her head in the room.

"You're here for Timothy McGee?" They all nodded. "We have him settled in if you'd each like to spend a few minutes with him. Please, follow me." She led them to the elevator which carried them to the floor that housed the Intensive Care Unit. Tony trailed behind the rest, suddenly hesitant to view the damage Tim has sustained in the crash, and hating himself for his cowardice.

When they reached the ICU the nurse stopped and turned around before she began giving them instructions.

"One or two people at a time may visit, but not more than five minutes per person or pair. If any of the alarms go off, you'll need to leave immediately. Keep your voices low so as not to disturb the other patients in the Unit. Do not touch any of the equipment or devices on or in the patient." Tony winced at that statement. "You may touch him, but be careful not to put any type of pressure on the bandages, stitches, or IV lines." Her tone softened. "I'm sure it will be difficult for you to see him like this, but if you do not think you can handle it, it's best if you don't go in at all to avoid stressing him and yourself. Any questions?" They all shook their heads. "Who would like to go first?"

Abby stepped forward, pulling Gibbs with her. The pair followed the nurse into the room as the rest waited outside.

"Has anyone informed his family?" Ziva asked.

"Timothy's medical release forms include a request that only his grandmother be informed in case of an emergency so I called Penelope. She was in upstate New York but is now on her way here. She said she would deal with the rest of the family."

Tony got the sense that he was forgetting something and it took a few moments before he realized what it was.

"Oh, damn it. McGee's dog. Someone needs to call Mikela and let her know."

"McGee gave me her number, just in case there was a need to call her and he could not."

"Give it to me before we leave and I'll call her."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's something I can do for him, at least."

"Tony…"

He ignored the sympathetic look she was giving him and turned away to pace again. Finally Abby and Gibbs emerged, and the look on Abby's face told him it was as bad as he feared.

"You OK, Abbs?" She shook her head and huddled closer to Gibbs who wore a stormy expression on his face. "Boss?"

"I'll take Abby home," replied, his eyes flashing in anger. "Vance wants to see you tomorrow morning at 0800."

"Why?"

"Political B.S. Just be there."

"Yes, Boss."

They headed for the elevator and Ducky cleared his throat, drawing Tony's attention.

"Anthony, would you like to go next?"

"No, you and Ziva can go. I can wait."

"Very well."

After they were out of sight Tony resumed his pacing. What did Vance want with him? Surely he didn't want to just check on Tony's mental well being. Whatever it was, he wasn't looking forward to that conversation. At all.

Tony's worry over Vance's summons was pushed from his mind when Ducky and Ziva walked back out into the hall. Ducky wore a grim expression while Ziva was clearly trying to control her emotions and, for her, failing miserably.

"You OK?"

"Fine. I will wait for you to finish your visit and then we may go back to the Yard. You will need your car, correct?"

"Yeah, I guess I will. How is he, Ducky?"

"I have not seen anything that would lead me to doubt Dr. Heilerin's assurances."

"But?"

"But Timothy has a long road to recovery ahead of him."

"Got it." Tony took a deep breath to brace himself for the visit. "I'll be back in a few," he said to Ziva, who nodded.

"I will be here."

Tony stepped into the unit and saw that it consisted of several curtained stalls, each presumably containing a bed and a patient surrounded by equipment. The nurse in charge saw him enter and walked over to him.

"You're here to see Agent McGee as well?"

"Yes."

"Follow me." She led him to the last stall and pulled back the curtain so he could enter the small space. He sucked in a breath when he finally caught sight of his partner, wondering if someone had made a mistake; the figure on the bed was almost unrecognizable as the healthy, happy man he had worked with that morning.

Tim's face was mottled with dark bruises and both of his eyes were badly swollen, leading Tony to realize that Tim probably wouldn't have been able to open them even if he had been conscious. The left side of his head was covered by a heavy pressure bandage, with a band of gauze wrapped his head to hold it and the drains in place. The ventilator tube was held in place by a strap encircling the lower part of his face and head, and the unbruised skin of his face, neck, and upper chest was a ghastly shade of grey, seemingly devoid of life. The only clues that Tim still remained among the living were the slow rise and fall of his chest as the ventilator forced air in and out of his lungs and the glowing green lines on the monitor next to his bed, showing the weak but steady beat of his heart.

Tony's gaze traveled down Tim's chest past the sensors attached to his skin to another set of bandages and accompanying drains emerging from beneath. The skin around those bandages was badly bruised as well. His left arm was in a cast from mid-bicep to his fingers, and his right bore a host of IV ports which carried blood and fluids into his veins. He was covered from just above his waist to mid-thigh by a cotton blanket, and his lower legs were encased in a set of braces with rods extending from them in several places down into his skin. A set of weights and pulleys were keeping his legs immobile, and Tony cringed as he tried to imagine how painful the injuries that had necessitated the set-up must have been.

"Oh God, Tim…"

Mindful of the nurse's instructions, he carefully moved his hand beneath Tim's and wrapped his fingers around Tim's own, avoiding the IV ports in the back of his hand. Tony gave the hand a gentle squeeze and after a few agonizing moments he felt a faint return of pressure on his own fingers.

"Hey, Buddy. You're going to be just fine. You hear me?" There was no response but Tony pushed on. "Don't worry about a thing. I've got it covered. You just concentrate on waking up and getting better, OK?" Again, Tim didn't respond and Tony felt the tendrils of panic starting to encroach into the space around his heart. "Damn it, Tim." He ran his free hand through his hair in frustration. "Listen to me: you do not get to give up, OK? Don't make me tell my McMaddie she lost her person. Don't you dare make me do that. Come on, Tim, you can beat this. I know you. You don't back down from a challenge. Right?"

Finally, after Tony's heart felt like it was going to climb out of his chest, he felt another very weak squeeze around his fingers. "That's it, Tim. You keep working on it. You'll be out of here in no time, alright?" A few more moments passed before Tony got a response, but it was so much better than nothing. "OK." He glanced over his shoulder and saw the nurse standing there. She tapped her watch and he nodded. "I have to go now, but I'll be back as soon as I can, and I expect you to be awake and annoying the nurses. OK?" The response was barely there, but he accepted it as agreement. He carefully released Tim's hand and brushed his fingers across Tim's cheek. "Hang in there."

He walked out of the ICU and found Ziva waiting for him. Without a word they headed for the elevator and soon they were in the parking lot. Ziva handed him her cell phone before silently unlocking the doors and climbing into the driver's seat of her car. Tony hesitated a moment before climbing in the passenger side and buckling his seatbelt. He scanned through Ziva's phone until he found Mikela's name and pressed the call button.

" _Hello?"_

"Mikela?"

" _Yes. Who's this?"_

"My name is Tony DiNozzo, and I work with-"

" _Tim. Yes, he's mentioned you. What's going on?"_

"Well, uh… He's going to need you to keep Maddie for awhile. He's, uh…"

" _What happened?"_

"Have you been watching the news?"

" _Off and on. Nothing really interesting except that big accident in I-95. Is that a new case?"_

"No. Tim...he was one of the people injured in that accident."

" _How bad?"_

Tony could hear the concern in her voice and he squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment to compose himself before continuing. "Let's just say he won't be home for awhile."

" _Is he going to be OK?"_

"His doctor seems to think so."

" _Well that's good, right?"_ Tony said nothing. " _When do they expect him to be released?"_

Tony sighed. "Nobody knows yet. It's kind of 'wait and see' right now."

" _OK. Sure, I can keep Maddie for as long as he needs me to do so. I'll call Rufus to make sure his house is taken care of, too."_

"Thank you."

" _Let me know how he's doing, OK? We'll be praying for him."_

"I can do that. Thanks, Mikela. Give Maddie a hug for me...and for Tim."

" _I can do that, too. Take care of yourself, Tony."_

"I'll try." He ended the call and gave Ziva back her phone, which she absently stuck in her pocket.

"Are you OK, Tony?"

"I'm not the one in a coma, Ziva."

"I am worried about McGee, too, Tony, but I am also worried about you."

"Why?"

"Because for some unknown reason, you seem to think that what happened to McGee is your fault. It is not."

"I know that."

"Then what is wrong?"

"It's just...this shouldn't have happened. It was a stupid accident, a twist of fate, whatever you want to call it. It shouldn't have happened to McGee of all people. He doesn't deserve something like this."

"No, he does not, but neither does anyone else when 'something like this' happens to them. Bad things do happen to good people."

"You know, you suck as a motivational speaker."

Ziva let out an exasperated sigh. "I am just trying to tell you...do not dwell on it. Be thankful that McGee survived."

"So far."

That time she smacked him. "He will be OK, Tony."

"I hope so, Ziva," Tony replied and turned his head to stare out the window at the dark scenery flying by.

_I really, really do._

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

It was barely 0500 the next morning when Tony stepped off the elevator and walked to his desk. He had tried sleeping, he really had, but his uneasy moments of slumber had been punctuated by images of Tim in his hospital bed, slowly getting worse, or still stuck in his car, with no one to get him out. Finally realizing that he wasn't going to be able to shut off his brain enough to get a decent night's sleep he had gotten dressed and headed into work.

He had just finished reading through his email when he sensed a presence and looked up to see Gibbs standing in front of his desk.

"Everything OK, Boss?" He glanced at the clock on his computer and winced. It was only 0540.

"What are you doing here this early, DiNozzo?"

"Catching up. I kinda missed a lot of work yesterday, so… What are  _you_ doing here so early?"

"Catching up," was Gibbs acerbic reply as he returned to his own desk. Tony pulled out his notes from the crime scene and started going through those as well, pulling together a list of leads as he worked and happy to have a distraction.

Ziva arrived less than an hour later and sent both men curious looks as she settled in at her desk.

"Is everything alright? Have you heard anything about McGee?"

"Still unconscious. Vitals are improving," Gibbs replied. "Ducky is going to go check on him before coming in."

"That is good. Are you OK, Tony?"

"Fine. Trying to work, here. You know, get as much done as possible before I have to go get reamed out by Vance."

"'Reamed out'?"

"Scolded harshly."

"Why would Director Vance want to scold you?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"Political B.S.," Gibbs replied, echoing his sentiment from the previous evening, and again he did not expand on it. Tony just shrugged and went back to his notes but underneath his calm façade his gut was churning.

The team worked in relative silence until almost 0800, when rose from his chair and, after taking a deep breath, started up the stairs to the catwalk. Gibbs was soon on his heels and together they walked to the Director's office, where his secretary waved them in.

"You wanted to see me, Director?"

Vance nodded. "I take it you watched the news conference on ZNN last night."

"Yes, sir."

"And you're aware of the question the ZNN reporter asked in regards to your actions at the scene?"

"Yes, sir."

"The SecNav also watched that segment, and she asked me to look into what happened. Care to enlighten me?"

"Sir, I… I was concerned for Agent McGee. That was my only motivation. I was not 'passing judgement' on anyone."

"And yet you chose to give aid to a fellow agent over checking on a civilian casualty."

"To be honest, sir, I don't know what I was thinking. Actually, I do. I was thinking that the man who's had my six for ten years, who is my best friend and the closest thing I have to a brother, his car had just been  _slammed_  into by a larger vehicle causing severe damage and that he was trapped inside, most likely badly injured, possibly dead. So forgive me,  _sir,_  for being human and worrying more about him than anything else, including, apparently, the reputation of the agency."

"Worrying about the reputation of this agency is  _my_  job, Agent DiNozzo. It's not a task I particularly enjoy, especially in situations like this, but it's something I need to do. The SecNav asked me to look into this incident, so I did." A hint of a smile appeared on his face before vanishing. "Consider the matter looked into, and closed."

Tony stared at Vance in shock for several moments before turning to look at Gibbs, who just shrugged.

"Told you: political B.S."

"Which requires us to cover all bases. It's the same reason the Metro PD forensic department will be checking Agent McGee's vehicle over very carefully for signs of paint transfer, from both the car that allegedly caused the crash and other vehicles involved."

"Wait, you're worried that McGee's car hit someone else?"

Vance sighed. "Incidents like these bring out the worst in people. We want to be able to cut any suggestions and any resulting civil suits off at the pass. Consider it  _me_  having Agent McGee's six."

"Damn…"

"I agree." He turned his attention to Gibbs. "Now, where are we on your current case?"

"Waiting on reports from Ducky and Abby. Duck's should be done this morning."

"Is Abby coming in today?" Tony asked, and Gibbs nodded.

"Brought her in this morning. She says she can handle it."

"Good. After you've finished with this case, I'm taking your team off rotation and ordering that they take some vacation time.  _Paid_  vacation time."

"With all due respect, Director, I don't need vacation time. I'd rather-"

"Work, I know. When was the last time you had a significant amount of time off, Agent DiNozzo?" Tony thought about it for a few moments but couldn't produce and answer. "That's what I thought. You'll also be required to complete your annual psychological evaluation, which I know you've 'missed' the past few years, before you return."

"I'm fine, Director." Vance raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't injured. I'm fine."

"No, but a member of your team  _was_  injured, and evaluations are required following such an incident. Consider it killing two birds with one stone."

"Great…"

"Anything else, Leon?"

"Dr. Mallard has been keeping me updated on Agent McGee's condition. As I understand it, he is going to be off work for quite some time. I can arrange for a TAD when your team returns from vacation."

"I would rather you didn't."

"So would I, but you need the extra manpower. I'll be sure to find someone suitable."

_Thick skinned, you mean,_ Tony thought but wisely didn't say out loud.

"Anything else?"

"Keep me in the loop, Gibbs. For everything. Dismissed."

Gibbs just smirked and headed for the door, with Tony following close behind. They walked to the elevator and once they were inside with the door closed Tony flipped the switch.

"Was that necessary, Boss?"

"Wasn't my choice. Vance just reminding us he's still in charge."

"So what now, Boss?"

"We finish the case."

"Got it."

XXX

It took them nearly four days to wrap up their latest investigation, and Tony had wished more than once that McGee was there to help. Tony had checked in with the hospital every day, and each time he had been told that McGee was stable but still unconscious. Worry for his partner occupied his thoughts more often than not, but he also knew there really wasn't much he could do for the younger man until he actually woke up.

Finally, after all of the paperwork was completed, Gibbs sent them home with orders to take the vacation time they had been given. Tony was the first to leave and immediately he drove to the hospital, worried that his partner still hadn't regained consciousness and relieved that he would finally be able to check on him in person.

When he arrived at the ICU he was surprised to find that Tim was not alone and disappointed that he would have to wait to visit him. After only a few minutes of waiting, Tim's visitor emerged from the ICU and met Tony's gaze, a tired smile appearing on her face when she saw him.

"Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo. It's good to see you again." She stepped forward and took his offered hand between her own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Ms. Langston." He returned the smile and the gesture.

"How many times have I told you to call me Penny?"

"Not enough, I guess. How's he doing?"

"Better, they keep telling me, but considering… That's not really saying much. He is showing signs of increased consciousness, at least."

"That's good," Tony replied as he glanced towards the ward, anxious to see the improvements himself. "Is the rest of his family here?"

Sadly, she shook her head. "John is out on another tour. Sarah started a new job in New York a few months ago and doesn't have any leave time saved up to come visit. As for Timothy's mother...she doesn't handle crisis well. I'll talk to her after he's out of the ICU."

"When will that be?"

"They tell me if he keeps improving at the rate he has been..probably another day or two." She chuckled softly. "Good thing, too. This place is pretty much the opposite of what one needs to get better. So depressing, not to mention bad energy flow."

"Yeah, just a bit."

She patted his hand. "Go on, have your visit. They'll let you stay longer, now. Tell my grandson I'll be back in a few minutes."

"I will."

She left and Tony walked into the Unit and down to Tim's stall. When he opened the curtain he was relieved to see that there was some improvement in his friend's appearance. The ventilator was gone, replaced by a nasal cannula, and most of the drains, including the one in his head had been removed as well. The swelling around his eyes was drastically reduced but his face was still mottled by bruises, now fading to green and yellow.

"Hey Tim," Tony began as he stepped up to the bed. "Penny was right, you're looking a little better. Still look like absolute crap, though." He carefully slid his left hand under Tim's right, and after a few moments he smiled when he felt a weak pressure around his fingers. "She said she'd be back in a moment. I think she went to go find some incense or something to improve the energy flow in here. Maybe went to get some sage to burn, too. But she'll be back. Guess you're stuck with me for a little while.

"Vance gave us a vacation, if you can believe that, so if it's OK with you I'll be hanging around a little more. You need to keep me entertained, though, 'cause I gotta be honest with you, you're not real interesting right now. Do me a favor, OK? Wake up and talk to me. I've missed my original recipe Probie this week."

Tony saw Tim's eyelids twitch a little at the statement and he grinned. "That's it, Tim. Come on. Open your eyes." A few more twitches and then the lids slowly started to open, stopping about halfway, and Tony could see the slightly glazed green irises beneath. After a few moments of slow blinking Tim's eyes finally opened most of the way and his unsteady gaze traveled around the room before finally resting on Tony.

"Hey, Buddy. You with me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me." He was almost immediately rewarded with another weak squeeze. "That's it. That's good, Tim." He reached his other hand over and pressed the call button, summoning one of the nurses.

"What's wrong?" She noticed Tim's eyes and smiled. "Welcome back, Agent McGee." She walked over to the computer and typed in a few words before starting to check him over. "I just called your doctor. She'll be here shortly." She raised the head of Tim's bed a little and started to take his blood pressure, smiling when she saw the result. "That's good, Agent McGee. Much better."

"Tim. His name is Tim."

"Oh, of course. Can you hear me, Tim? Blink twice for yes." Tim's eyes slowly closed and then opened twice. "That's good." She gently moved Tony out of the way and put her hand under Tim's, palm up. "Press down on my hand." Tim did as he was told. "Good." She walked down and touched the bottom of one of his feet. "Can you feel that?" He blinked again, twice, and she moved to the other foot. "How about this?" He blinked again. "That's really good, Tim." She walked back up to the bed. "How do you feel?" A soft groan was his only reply. "OK. I'll be right back." She quickly left and Tim closed his eyes as a tear formed and slid down his cheek.

"Tim?" His eyes opened again. "How are you feeling?"

"Hurts," Tim whispered hoarsely and closed his eyes again, wincing against the pain.

Before Tony could reply the nurse reappeared, carrying a cup and a straw. "Here you go, Tim. This will help a little." She gently raised his head and placed the straw between his lips, allowing a few sips before she took the cup away and let his head rest on the pillow again. "Better?" He blinked twice. "OK. Give it a minute to see how that settles and then you can have some more."

"Hurts," Tim whispered again, his voice not quite as hoarse as before.

"We're going to see what we can do about that," Dr. Heilerin replied as she stepped into the small space. She sent Tony a dark look before focusing on her patient. After checking his pupil responses to her penlight, she did the same cognitive checks the nurse had done before, with similar results. "You are certainly on the mend, Agent McGee. How are your pain levels?"

"He says he hurts," Tony snapped. "Can't you do something about that?"

"You and I are never going to get along, are we?" she observed before turning back to Tim. "What hurts the most? And on a scale of 1-10, with ten being the worst, how much?"

Tim considered her question before finally arriving at an answer. "Legs...8. Then...head...7."

"OK, good to know. We're going to be working on balancing your pain medication so you're not feeling as much, but you'll still be able to stay awake when you want. Unfortunately you'll still feel some pain, but not as bad. OK?"

"OK…"

"Any dizziness? Nausea?"

"A...little...dizzy. Not...sick."

"That's good, too." She nodded to the nurse, who gave him another sip of water. "I'll be back in a minute with some better pain relief, OK?"

"OK…"

Both women left and Tim returned his rather glazed attention to Tony.

"What...happened?"

"What do you remember?"

Tim closed his eyes and Tony thought for a moment he had fallen asleep but eventually he opened them again.

"Case. Early. Met...there."

"That's right. What else?"

"Driving...then...nothing."

"Timothy?"

Tony turned to see Penny standing just outside the gap in the curtain. She quickly pushed it aside and stepped up to Tim's bed, smiling broadly at her grandson.

"They said you were awake, sweetheart. It's so good to see you."

"Penny…why…here?"

"Where else would I be?" she asked with a dramatic wave of her hands. "The lecture circuit was getting to me anyway, and I needed a break." Tony could tell from Tim's expression that he didn't believe her. "So here I am. How are you feeling?"

"OK."

She frowned. "Young man, now is not the time to be lying to me, so let's try that again. How do you feel?"

"Hurt," Tim admitted, and Tony winced at the defeated tone of his voice.

"They went to get him some more pain medication," Tony added before Penny could push for more information.

"How about I go hurry them up, OK? You can spend some time with this Very Special Agent." She winked at Tony and he couldn't help but grin as Tim groaned, clearly in annoyance instead of pain. As she was leaving Tony noticed her expression and understood why she had to leave. She didn't want her grandson to see her cry.

Tony clamped down on his own emotions and plastered an even bigger grin on his face. "Just you and me, McTim." Tim didn't respond and soon Tony realized why. Tim was staring at his own legs, a look of horror on his face, and the blips on the monitor that measured his heartbeat increased.

"Hey, hey, Tim. It's OK. Look at me," Tony cajoled, and finally Tim's terrified gaze met his own. "They'll heal, OK? You're going to be just fine."

"What...happened?"

"It was an accident, Tim. You were in a car accident."

"W-where?"

"On the way back from the crime scene."

They were interrupted by the arrival of the doctor, who glanced at the monitor and frowned.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. He's in pain, what do you expect?"

"We're going to take care of it, but  _that_  isn't from pain."

"He's upset. Wouldn't you be if-"

"I'm...OK. Don't...fight. Please."

Tony was immediately contrite. "Sorry, Tim." He reached out and gently ruffled the hair left on Tim's head, earning him a weak smile.

The doctor just shook her head and injected something into his IV. "That will help." She placed the call button in his uninjured hand. "If you don't start feeling relief soon, press that button to call us and we'll increase the dosage. OK?"

"OK. Thanks."

For the first time, Tony saw her smile. "You're welcome, Tim. Get some rest."

"Try…"

"Good."

After she left Tony took the time to study his partner. Tim's eyes were glazing over and drooping, and the pained expression on his face had started to fade. Tony was glad Tim was getting some relief, yet disappointed that he wouldn't be able to talk to Tim much longer that night.

"Better?"

"Yeah." A worried look crossed his face. "Anyone...else...hurt?"

"We're fine, Tim. Just waiting for you to get better."

"Will...I?"

"Your doctor says you will. She might not have much of a personality, but I think she knows what she's talking about, so we'll take her word for it. OK?"

Tim's eyes slid shut and he relaxed against the pillow, cleary fast asleep. Tony watched him for a few more moments before turning and walking out of the Unit. He found Penny sitting in the waiting room, the evidence of her breakdown still clinging to her face. She looked up as Tony approached and tried to summon a smile.

"He's asleep?"

"Yeah. He was pretty freaked out when he saw his legs, but I told him he'll be OK."

"Thank you. I'm sure he appreciated seeing you."

"I'm on vacation. He'll see a lot more of me in the next week. If he wants to."

"He will. He needs his team."

"We need him too."

She stood and gave him a hug, which he returned. "I better get back to the hotel. It's been awhile since I've had a decent night's sleep."

"I know what you mean. I'll see you later, Penny."

"Count on it."

After seeing her out to her car, Tony slowly made his way to his own vehicle and climbed inside before he started to shake, the tension from the last few days finally leaving him in a rush. After a few minutes he was able to collect himself, then started the car and headed for home, the events of the evening playing over in his mind: Tim had woken up. He still had most of his memories, and he was still the Tim Tony had known for so many years. He was healing.

It was a start.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Don’t End with Blood**

Chapter 5

 

Tony guided his car onto a familiar driveway and after a few moments of slow driving an equally familiar house came into view. He pulled up in front of the house, put the car in park and turned off the engine, contemplating the silent structure as he did so. It had been more than four months since he had been here, but that wasn’t all that surprising, considering that the owner of the house hadn’t been in residence for nearly as long. 

 

With a small shake of his head Tony opened the door and climbed out of the car, scanning the property with a critical eye for any unexpected change. The gnarled trees near the barn had lost both their leaves and fruit since his last visit, and the bare ground around them still held a touch of the previous night’s frost. The long, low boxes which had held the raised-bed gardens were now free of the plants that had been Tim’s pride and joy over the summer and a source of many of the ingredients in the recipes the team had enjoyed along with him...until the accident that had almost ended his life.

 

Tony shuddered slightly as he remembered that horrible moment, and the many anxious hours and days that had followed. Even after Tim had finally woken up he hadn’t been out of the woods. Tony had returned to the hospital the following day only to be told that Tim was in isolation due to pneumonia and an infection in his damaged lung. When he had finally been allowed a glimpse of his partner, sweat-soaked and struggling to breathe, Tony had been hit with the horrible memories of his brush with the plague and had nearly succumbed to the urge to run.

 

But he hadn’t.

 

Tony had tamped down his own fears and convinced the staff to allow him to visit, offering support and encouragement to Tim during his fight, an effort that had been worth it when the younger man had survived the ordeal. As Tim had started the long and arduous journey toward recovery, in the hospital and later at the rehabilitation facility, Tony had served as his cheerleader, offering support and encouragement to help his friend deal with the pain and frustration of recovery.

 

And now, finally, all of that hard work had paid off: Tim was coming home.

 

After scanning the yard around the house, and noting that it had been well cared for by the Fisher family’s rather eccentric handyman, Tony made his way to the front steps. He chuckled when he saw evidence that he was not the first person to think of preparing the house for Tim’s return. A new wooden ramp covered the steps, creating an obstacle-free path from the driveway to the front door. Tim still relied on a walker for stability so the addition would be much appreciated, and it did not surprise Tony that Gibbs had anticipated the necessity of what he had installed outside Tim’s home.

 

Tony fished the spare key out of his pocket and unlocked the front door before stepping inside. The house had the feel and smell of a dwelling that had been unoccupied for some time and he wrinkled his nose in distaste. He knew he’d better get a move on if he expected to get the house ready for Tim’s homecoming so he decided to do a quick survey of the house to see what needed to be done first.

 

The library and living room furniture were covered with sheets so he pulled those off, coughing slightly as the dusting clinging to the sheets was disturbed. He took down the curtains (also dusty) and carried everything to the laundry room and deposited them in the washer before checking the rest of the rooms. 

 

The refrigerator was off and had been cleaned out by someone, most likely Tim’s neighbors. A note on the counter confirmed that, and also indicate that the vegetables from Tim’s garden and the fruit from the orchard had been canned or frozen and was waiting for him in the cellar and freezer in the garage. Tony made a mental note to bring some stuff up from downstairs after the refrigerator was cold again. He plugged the refrigerator and the other appliances back in before going to collect the rest of the linens to throw in the washer.

 

Once the first load had been started, Tony went back upstairs to open the windows, intent on airing out the mustiness of the house while he took care of the cleaning. A couple of the windows were difficult to open but after a few minutes of tugging (and swearing) he managed to force them open enough to let the cool late-fall air in. He returned the the first floor to open the rest of the windows and then started the rather daunting task of dusting, polishing the antique furniture, and vacuuming the rugs and floors downstairs.

 

Two hours later he finished the downstairs, wondering briefly why he hadn’t recruited some help. After a short break and switching a second load of laundry from the washer to the dryer he headed upstairs to clean. When he reached the guest room, he was surprised to find the windows that he had fought to open were closed again. Wondering why he hadn’t heard them fall, he struggled to open them again and propped them up with a couple of hardback books he found in the computer room.

 

He finished cleaning the guest room before moving on to clean the computer room, the bathroom, and the master bedroom and bathroom. Deciding the upstairs was sufficiently aired out, he started washing and closing the windows. When he stepped back into the guest room he let out a small squeak of surprise. The windows were shut again and the books that had held them open were sitting on the floor.

 

“OK. Windows stay shut. Got it,” he muttered as goosebumps broke out on his arms and neck, which he tried, somewhat successfully, to shake off. Spending as little time in the room as possible, he quickly washed the windows before returning to the laundry room to fetch the now-clean curtains, which he quickly re-hung in all of the upstairs rooms. After re-making all of the beds upstairs (he suspected Tim would be having Penny hang around for a few weeks) he returned to the lower level to check on the laundry.

 

Finally the cleaning was done, the curtains we back in place, and the bedroom on the first floor was ready. Tony checked the refrigerator and after determining that it was cooling down as it should he decided to go down to the cellar to retrieve a few canned goods that the neighbors had provided and check the status of Tim’s food supply before making a run to the store.

 

He flipped the switch at the top of the stairs and the bulb at the bottom sputtered to life, casting a dim light in the space surrounding it. Tony made a mental note to get a new bulb before he descended the stairs and walked across the packed dirt floor to the far wall where shelves full of jars stood. He read the labels and selected some salsa (and made another mental note to pick up some chips), zucchini relish, applesauce, apple butter, and something labeled “chow chow” which looked like a mixture of several types of chopped vegetables. He was considering grabbing a second jar of applesauce when he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind him. He spun around, nearly dropping the jars in his haste and stared, uncomprehending at the area in front of him.

 

There was no one there.

 

“Hello?” he called out, wondering if he had misjudged the location and someone was walking around the level above, but there was no answer. He carefully adjusted his grip on the jars and carefully walked across the basement to the steps, noting that the only footprints in evidence were his own. He hurried up the steps and into the kitchen, but there was no sign of a visitor. He carefully placed the jars on the counter and went to search the rest of the house, calling out for whoever it was to identify themselves, but he found no evidence that anyone else was in the house.

 

He checked outside and after finding no other cars in the driveway he went out to check the garage and then the barn. He was alone.

 

The sun had started to sink towards the horizon as he made he way back into the house. Deciding that he  _ really _ didn’t want to be there, by himself after dark, Tony quickly checked the freezer in the garage and the pantry to see what he would need to add to the grocery list. After finding a pad of paper and a pen in one of the kitchen drawers, Tony jotted down a few items, expecting to add a few more after he decided what he would make to serve Tim for his first meal at home.

 

Tony made one last quick check of the house before he locked the back door, turned off the lights and made his way to the front of the house. Just inside the front door he stopped and stared at the small table that stood next to it, trying to comprehend what he  _ wasn’t _ seeing.

 

“Damn it, where in the  _ hell  _ are my keys?!?”

 

XXX

 

“You ready to get out of here?” Tony asked as he strolled into Tim’s room, a grin plastered on his face. Tim was sitting in a wheelchair, already dressed in loose-fitting jeans, button up and sweater and was holding a small duffel bag on his lap. He looked up at Tony, confusion flashing across his face before he returned the grin.

 

“You have no idea. Where’s Penny? I thought she was taking me home?”

 

“She called me last night and told me her flight was cancelled. She’ll be getting in tonight but she wanted to make sure you weren’t stuck here for another day. I was happy to fill in.” 

 

“Thanks. They should be back with my discharge papers in a few minutes.”

 

Tony eyed the wheelchair. “I thought you graduated to the walker.”

 

“I did. Center policy, everyone gets one last ride out of here.” He pointed to the walker, folded and leaning against the bed. “Do you mind grabbing that for me on the way out?”

 

“No problem.” He walked over and sat on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

 

Tim shrugged. “They told me I won’t be cleared for desk duty even until after the first of the year. Otherwise…OK, I guess.” He looked down at his legs, the lower half still encased in braces. “I’m getting there.” A worried look crossed his face. “I’m still not very good at navigating steps. Getting in the front door might be a challenge.”

 

“Already taken care of. Gibbs built you a ramp. A temporary one.”

 

Tim blushed. “He didn’t need to do that.”

 

“Of course he did. He’s Gibbs.”

 

Tim chuckled. “I’ll have to find some way to thank him.” He met Tony’s gaze. “I’ll have to find a way to thank all of you.”

 

“Well, Thanksgiving is next week, and I suspect Ducky and Ziva had already planned an invasion. Let them take over the kitchen for a couple of days and that should do it.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

Before Tony could respond a woman in a white lab coat walked knocked on the open door and stepped into the room, a stack of papers in hand.

 

“Mr. McGee, I take it your ride is here?” Tim nodded. “Good. I just have a few forms for you to sign, and some instructions for you.” She glanced at Tony. “Is it alright if…?”

 

“It’s fine. He’ll pass the information on to my grandmother.” Tony smiled and nodded and she began reading off the care instructions, most of which Tony already knew after spending as much time as he could with Tim while he was healing. When she was finished and Tim had signed all of the forms a nurse arrived to take him to down to the entrance of the care center. Tony grabbed the walker and followed behind, glad that this part of Tim’s recovery was over.

 

When they reached the lobby, Tony hurried out to get his car and by the time he returned Tim was waiting at the curb. Tony helped his partner into the car and once everything was stowed they headed for Tim’s house. Tim leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes as Tony navigated the streets that led towards the highway. While they were sitting at a stoplight Tony took some time to study the younger man. He was surprised to discover a few threads of grey at Tim’s temples and they lines around his eyes and mouth had deepened slightly, making him appear older than he had before the accident.

 

“What?” Tim asked, his eyes still closed.

 

“Nothing.”

 

“You’re staring. You’re not talking, and we’re not moving, so you have to be.” He opened his eyes and met Tony’s gaze. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing. Just...glad to see you sitting there in the passenger seat again.”

 

Tim stared at him until the light changed and Tony had to focus on the road ahead of them. After a few moments he replied.

 

“Probably just as happy as I am to be sitting here again.”

 

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

 

Tim was quiet until they got out of the city. After they were in the interstate, he spoke.

 

“It was bad, wasn’t it?”

 

“You were there, Tim.”

 

“But I don’t remember anything. You do.”

 

“Yeah. It was bad. I thought...I thought there was no way you survived that crash. I ran to the car and I expected to see you dead. But you weren’t. You were damn lucky, Tim.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

 

“For what?”

 

“For being there when I woke up.”

 

Tony chuckled. “Guess I lucked out on that one.”

 

“Guess we both did.”

 

Tim closed his eyes again and soon Tony heard soft snores coming from his partner. He smiled and continued driving towards their destination.

 

Tony stopped at a grocery store a few miles from Tim’s house and see that he was still asleep, Tony left his friend in the car while he hurried in to grab the items from his list. He knew the rest of the team would be arriving that evening to welcome Tim home and he needed to contribute to what would undoubtedly be a feast, so he loaded the makings for lasagna into the cart along with a selection of necessities. Thankfully the lines weren’t long and the cashier was reasonably efficient and he made it back to the car before Tim knew he was gone. He did wake up when Tony climbed in the driver’s seat and blinked a few times in confusion.

 

“Where are we?”

 

“Grocery store. Just picking up a few things for dinner.”

 

“You don’t need to do that.”

 

“Yeah, I did. Your cupboards are bare.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Well, except for the jars in the basement your neighbors left. They took care of your garden and orchard.”

 

“Guess I need to find some way of thanking them, too. How’s Maddie?”

 

“She’s been saying with Mikela, who will bring her by once you’re home. You can add her to the ‘thank’ list, too.”

 

“It’s getting to be a long list…”

 

“Yep. That happens when…you’ve got a lot of people looking out for you.”

 

“Yeah...I know.”

 

Tony just grinned and started the engine.

 

When they reached the house, Tim insisted he didn’t need help getting inside. Tony ran ahead to unlock the door before walking behind Tim as he slowly made his way into the house. He opted to stay in the living room and settled into his favorite recliner, breathing a sigh of relief as he raised the footrest.

 

“Home sweet home?” Tim smiled and nodded. “I’m going to go unload the car.”

 

“OK.”

 

It didn’t take Tony long to finish his task and he carried the groceries into the kitchen, frowning when he saw one of the cabinet doors standing open. He was sure he had closed it the night before. He quickly stowed the groceries and went to check on Tim, who was asleep again. He carefully draped an afghan over the sleeping man before he retreated to the kitchen. He had one large and two smaller pans of lasagna ready to go in the oven when the doorbell rang. He quickly wiped his hands on a dish towel and hurried to the front door. He grinned when he saw who was standing on the front steps.

 

“Mikela. McMaddie. Tim will be happy to see you.” He reached down and scratched Maddie behind her ears. She swiped his hand with her tongue in return, her ears pricking up when she heard a familiar voice call out from the living room.

 

“Tony, who’s at the door?”

 

Mikela grinned as Maddie tugged on the leash and followed the excited dog into the living room. Tim’s face lit up when he saw the newcomers, his attention focused on the little Australian Shepherd bouncing at the end of the leash.

 

“Maddie!”

 

“Easy, girl,” Mikela commanded as she let Maddie reach her owner. The dog whined and cried with obvious joy as they were reunited and Tim’s eyes were wet by the time she had calmed down enough to sit beside his chair with her chin on his knee.

 

“Missed you, too,” he whispered as he stroked her head. “Thank you, Mikela, for taking care of her.”

 

“My pleasure. She’s no trouble to have around. We’ve been keeping up with her training, so… How are you doing?”

 

“Getting there.”

 

“That’s all you can ask.” She turned to Tony. “If you guys need anything…”

 

“I’ll let you know. Thanks, Mikela.”

 

“No problem. I better get back. Be good, Maddie.” Maddie just grinned and closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the attention she was getting from Tim. Mikela grinned in return and headed for the front door.

 

“Hang on a minute,” Tony requested and hurried back to the kitchen, soon returning with a fool-wrapped pan. “It’s not much, but… Thanks.”

 

She chuckled. “It’s what neighbors do. See you later, Tony. Oh, by the way.” She opened the door and pointed to a familiar figure standing near the barn. “You have a visitor.” Laughing, she carefully took the pan and headed for her car as Tony groaned.

 

“Tim. Houdini’s escaped again.” He heard a quiet laugh before Tim responded.

 

“Darlene’s number is on the fridge.”

 

“Got it.” He found the number, pulled out his phone and dialed. “Mrs. Kirby? This is Tony, Tim’s friend. Harry is paying a visit again. Thanks.” He went out to wait for her to arrive and when he saw her coming across the fields he grabbed the second smaller pan and went out to greet her. After she and Harry had left Tony returned to the house to find Tim still sitting in the chair petting his dog.

 

“Everything OK?”

 

“Yep. Consider part of the thank-yous covered. I sent them home with a pan of lasagna.”

 

“I’m sure they’ll appreciate that.” He looked around the room, his forehead creasing in confusion before his eyes widened. “Did you...clean my house?”

 

“Yep, and before you thank me, I will collect: movie marathon, every weekend we’re not on call until you’re back in the field.”

 

“I can handle that.”

 

“Good. I made lasagna for us, too. Everybody’s coming by later for your welcome home party.”

 

“Oh. Let me guess: Abby?”

 

“It was her idea, but nobody argued. Are you up to having visitors?”

 

“Yeah. I’ll try not to fall asleep. It’s still hard not to, sometimes.”

 

“Well, you’re still healing. We’ll cut you a break.”

 

“OK.”

 

“Be back in a minute.”

 

Tony returned to the kitchen to put the lasagna in the refrigerator and pulled out deli meat, cheese, and condiments and grabbed a loaf of bread that was still sitting on the counter. Soon he had two plates of sandwiches and chips ready and carried the to the living room. 

 

“Do you want to eat in here, or…?”

 

“I can make it to the kitchen.” Tim slowly levered himself out of the chair and shuffled down the hall to the back of the house. Tony set his plate on the counter and Tim settled onto one of the stools. They ate in silence and Tony had finished his sandwich by the time Tim spoke again.

 

“I appreciate this, Tony. Everything you’ve done for me over the past few months.”

 

“That’s what friends or for.”

 

“Not friends,” Tim replied and Tony’s eyes widened. Tim met his gaze and smile. “You’re much closer than that. All you guys. I wouldn’t have made it...”

 

Tony couldn’t help but grin as he finished his chips. “But you did. And I... _ we _ are grateful for that.”

 

“Me too.” Tim looked around the kitchen and laughed softly. “I still can’t believe you cleaned my house.”

 

“And I can’t believe you live here by yourself. It’s creepy.”

 

Tim raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

 

Tony told him about the windows, the books, the footsteps, and finally the keys. Tim listened, a knowing smile on his face. 

 

“But what does it all mean? I mean...am I crazy, or what?”

 

“No, Tony, you’re not crazy.” Tim chuckled. “It means that, as far as this house and its residents are concerned, you really  _ are _ part of the family.”

 

The End

 

**_Family don’t end with blood, boy_ ** _. _ \- Bobby Singer,  _ Supernatural _


End file.
